International Holocaust Remembrance Day: Justice Rosalie Silberman Abella in conversation with Professor Arthur Ripstein
“It is your responsibility, as future lawyers, to commit to liberal and democratic values, to protect the rights of minorities where the government cannot justify intrusion and to ensure that the law remains responsive to legitimate minority interests.”
On Holocaust Remembrance Day—Monday, January 27, former Supreme Court Justice Rosalie Abella and U of T Law Professor Arthur Ripstein engaged in a meaningful discussion about Holocaust remembrance in Canada, hosted by the Jewish Law Students Association. For Abella, the Holocaust was not just a historical atrocity but a defining element in her life’s journey—a reminder of justice’s fragility and the ongoing struggle against antisemitism. Professor Ripstein began with the question: What does Holocaust remembrance mean to you?
“I’ve struggled with how to put it into words because it operates on so many levels,” Abella answered. “When I was in law school, I don’t think I fully appreciated the impact this day would have on me. At the time, I saw the Holocaust as a failure of law and justice. But I didn’t come to understand its deeply antisemitic dimension until years later.”
Abella’s connection to the Holocaust is deeply personal. Her parents, both Polish Jews, were married on September 3, 1939, just two days after Hitler’s invasion of Poland. Abella was born in a refugee camp in Stuttgart, Germany. Her father, a law school graduate from Kraków, never had the chance to practice law in Poland. When the war began, his family’s manufacturing business was seized by German authorities, and he was sent to a labour camp.
“I don’t know how my parents survived,” Abella admitted. Despite enduring unimaginable pain, Abella’s parents chose gratitude over grievance. “I grew up in a house where there were no complaints about what had happened to them. They were just happy to be in Canada. I was raised with a sense of obligation to prove that Canada was right to let us in.”
Justice Abella reflected on the fragility of life and the systems we often take for granted. “Life stopped for my parents when they were in their 30s and 40s. They never said it outright, but I understood—everything you have can be abruptly taken away,” she said. “I feel the same way about our social and legal systems. We must make the most of what we have because what we have is very precious.”
Her father, determined to reclaim his legal career, approached the Law Society upon arriving in Canada. He was told he couldn’t practice until he became a citizen, which required a five-year wait. Undeterred, he taught himself English and persevered, embodying the resilience that would shape Justice Abella’s own career.
Professor Ripstein then shared his own family’s history. He recounted how his family had once lived comfortably in Germany—his father, a veteran of the First World War, displayed his Iron Cross in the store window, a symbol of loyalty and service to the country. But even that could not protect them. “Their windows were smashed. They were forced to sell the business under duress,” Ripstein said. His family fled to Amsterdam, where his mother was able to secure false papers and survive. His grandparents, however, were murdered in the Holocaust. After the war, Ripstein’s father was sheltered by a German family who risked their safety to protect him. “They got him out by bribing people,” he said. “One of the most troubling things is that antisemitism seems to find its own occasions. Whenever something goes wrong, Jews are blamed – for capitalism by the left, for communism by the right. Jews are constantly called upon to prove themselves in ways that others are not.”
Abella posed the next question to Ripstein: How should institutions confront antisemitism in the face of growing resistance?
Ripstein emphasized that universities must remain custodians of civilized human interaction – places where difficult conversations can happen without fear or exclusion. He referenced a quote from philosopher Hans-Georg Gadamer: “It isn’t a conversation if you don’t believe that the other person could be right.” For him, this is a crucial reminder of what universities should represent: spaces where hard questions can be discussed, disagreements can be had in a civilized way, and conversations can continue even in the face of deep differences.
He noted that antisemitism is distinct in certain ways while also sharing characteristics with other forms of discrimination. He also argued that anti-racism training should recognize antisemitism in its particular forms, including the ways it manifests differently from other prejudices.
Justice Abella challenged the audience to consider the role of law schools in an era of deepening political and social divides. “In law school, we learn about civility, the dignity of intellect, and the requirement for respect when there is difference,” she said. “But what is the role of the law in all of this?”
She questioned whether legal standards are still meaningful when interpretation can be stretched to fit any argument. “What laws do we need to protect and foster an environment of open and respectful debate? And how enforceable are they when people fear disapproval from one side or the other?” she asked. At a time when public discourse is driven by outrage, social media, and populism, she worried that law may no longer function as a force above political pressures. “I had always seen law as something that transcends human behavior. Is that still the case? Or are we in a post-legal world where it doesn’t matter what the law says?”
Pointing to the United States, Abella expressed concern over the erosion of legal protections and human rights. “Reading the newspaper, what’s going on in the U.S. is an insult to almost every single part of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which was passed in 1948,” she said. “Anti-refugee policies, discriminatory practices, arbitrary actions—we have laws against these things.”
Beyond Holocaust remembrance, Abella urged students in the audience to recognize their duty in protecting current liberal and democratic values. “Canada has a history of commitment to these principles,” she said, pointing to the evolution of human rights protections, from the 1950 Bill of Rights to provincial human rights codes, culminating in the Charter of Rights and Freedoms.
Even as Justice Abella ascended to the country’s highest judicial office, she remained acutely aware of the journey that led her there. “My path to the Supreme Court was a circuitous route – it was all about the Holocaust. Over the years, I became infused with passion, not just about the justice and injustice I was born from. I felt committed to redressing it in any way I could. I understood that this all happened because I was Jewish.”
Justice Abella recalled the moment she became an Ontario Family Court judge – an achievement that, in her words, was infused with chutzpah. “A 29-year-old Jewish woman on the bench – it was something my family could hardly believe,” she said with a smile. For Abella, it was a moment of joy and disbelief. “It was a happy, loving, ‘isn’t this amazing?’ kind of moment.”
“My clients [as a lawyer] taught me about discrimination against minorities. The Royal Commission on Equality in Employment taught me about systemic barriers. The newspapers taught me about discrimination against Jews,” she said.
For much of her life, Abella felt fortunate that she didn’t have to worry about what being Jewish meant in a deeply personal way. “Unlike my parents, I never had to think about it,” she reflected. “But now… now I feel it.”
Reflecting on the infamous Wannsee Conference, where Nazi officials formalized the Final Solution, Abella pointed out a chilling fact: many of the architects of genocide were highly educated. “Fifteen men sat around that table. Nine of them were lawyers. They created the legal framework for the slaughter of Jews, Roma, and other targeted groups. That brings me full circle to how I think about the Holocaust – my lifetime’s review to what justice really means.”
For Abella, Holocaust Remembrance Day is not just about reflection; it is about vigilance. It is a reminder that the pursuit of justice is never complete, and that history’s darkest lessons must never be forgotten.
Abella concluded with a hopeful message. “I see you—the next generation—as the guardians of justice. If we can’t count on you, then there’s no hope. But I do count on you. The things you learn, the people you meet – this is your collegial entry into a lifelong duty. You have an obligation to make the world better. Because if law isn’t about justice, then what’s the point? It is your responsibility, as future lawyers, to commit to liberal and democratic values, to protect the rights of minorities where the government cannot justify intrusion and to ensure that the law remains responsive to legitimate minority interests.”
Justice Rosalie Abella’s words serve as both a warning and a challenge: the law is only as strong as those who uphold it. Holocaust Remembrance is not just a day of reflection. It reminds us how fragile justice can be, how quickly rights can be stripped away, and how easily hatred can take root when left unchecked.